


Doggy Cas

by SherlockWolf



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Crack, Dogs, Dungeons & Dragons, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Spells & Enchantments, Witches, cas is a dog, read it how you want, snuggles, temporarily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-25 12:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13834038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Cas gets turned into a dog. Silliness ensues.





	Doggy Cas

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to celebrate my 60th (posted) fic with some fun silliness. Enjoy!

    Dean sure-as-fuck was thankful he wasn’t allergic to dogs. For more reasons other than that time he got semi brain-swapped with one. Yeah, he still couldn’t believe that happened. Kinda like how he couldn’t believe that _this_ was happening.

    The Winchesters’ week had started out on a different hunt than their usual. Some weird phenomena were occurring in a small town in Northern California. Arrows were randomly appearing and launching themselves into trees, buildings, and cars. Birds were randomly bursting into balls of flame, or ice, or slime, or lightning. People would be standing in one place then find themselves in another without any memory of even taking a step forward. Among many other weird things.

    Investigating for three days had led them to the house of a high school kid named Abby. Apparently, she’d figured out how to turn her Dungeons and Dragons spells into _real_ magic. Which led to a showdown Dean considered worthy of Lord of the Rings. Which led to now, with the kid stripped of her so-called “magic”, and Cas.

    As a dog.

    The girl’s last spell had transformed one Angel of the Lord into a Holy Canine. Where Cas had been standing moments ago, a typical Doberman was in his place. The only thing that marked the dog as Cas was the blue eyes that no dog of that breed ever had.

    “You _suck!_ ” Abby screamed at dog-Cas, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping one of her feet.

    Cas barked, then looked affronted at hearing the sound that came out of his own mouth. He comically whipped his head around to stare at his body, which ended up causing him to twist into a ball of doggy limbs on the floor. Dean watched slack-jawed as Cas righted himself and snarled at Abby.

    “How the hell did you do that?” Sam hollered at the same time that Dean said, “Fix him!”

    Abby elected to ignore Sam’s comment to giggle maliciously at Dean’s.

    “The vet down the street certainly could _fix_ him.” She grinned, suddenly forgetting her misery over losing her powers for the sake of the pun.

    Cas barked indignantly. Or, he at least made a sound that Dean assumed was meant to convey his frustration.

    “Look, you jerks stole my powers! I can’t do anything.”

    Remembering her plight, Abby turned and stomped through the yard in front of her house, back toward the front door. Dean began to go after her, but Sam grabbed his arm and held him back.

    “Not a good idea. Look, Dean, this town is safe, so we should probably—.”

    “Go do some research.” Dean snapped, turning his glare on his brother.

    But, Dean relented. Research was—as per usual—their best bet.

~

    Having a dog living in the bunker was weird. Cas seemed to have _way_ more energy than he’d had in over a million years, based on the way he’d race through the long halls of the bunker in the middle of the night just because he was _bored._ Instead of eating at the table, Cas scarfed up raw meat scraps from a metal bowl on the floor. And he insisted—with wiggles rather than words—on going for an hour’s walk every single day.

    At first, Dean had protested each and every aspect of dog-Cas. In his opinion, they needed to find a solution and they needed to find one _now._ But “now” had turned into a full week, with no hope of a solution. Cas became more like a dog every single day, to the point where Dean began to fear that the angel would completely lose himself over to his new form of existence.

    He didn’t have to worry, though. Cas made sure to show Dean that he was as aware of himself as always. He’d listen to Sam and Dean’s conversations, tilt his head whenever he failed to understand something, and used a code Sam had developed where one bark meant “no” and two barks meant “yes”.

    The angel just refused not to indulge his canine impulses.

    Such as the third night after they’d returned to the bunker. Dean was watching TV, sprawled out on the couch with his feet propped up on the opposite arm of the couch from the one he was leaning on. Sam and Cas were in the war room, discussing—as best they could—some ancient language Sam had recently discovered among the bunker’s library. Dean was only half-paying attention to the telenovela he’d randomly landed on. It was an interesting-ish plot, full of drama completely arbitrary to Dean’s life.

    He’d been staring blankly at the screen in a trance that was harshly broken by the feeling of a heavy, four-legged body clambering onto his own. Dean startled with a jolt, his body jerking into a defense position. Then he met the blue eyes of dog-Cas.

    “Is this really necessary?” Dean grumbled, forcing his body to relax even though he’d never had any animal this close and personal before. 

    Cas made two quiet _boof_ noises, as per Dean’s earlier request to control the volume of his barks. Then he laid down on top of Dean, his dog head resting on the man’s chest. Dean dropped one of his raised arms over Cas’ pointy shoulders and huffed as the weight of the dog settled against his body. Dogs were heavier than he imagined.

    “Did Sam go to bed?”

    Cas answered with a yes.

    “You know, you could try sleeping. It might work since you’re in a different body.”

    Cas disagreed.

    “Still can’t sleep?”

    Cas agreed.

    Dean scratched behind Cas’ ears, and the angel-dog wagged his tail slightly. Dean found himself ignoring the TV for the sake of petting dog-Cas. Cas enjoyed his ears being scratched, but belly-rubs and back scratches were obviously his favourite if the tail-wagging increases were anything to go by.

    “This is so weird.” Dean mumbled at one point, to which Cas disagreed.

    “If you turn into yourself you’re gonna squish me.”

    Cas lifted his head and rolled his eyes. Dean didn’t even know dogs _could_ roll their eyes. He was pretty sure Cas was thinking, _“I’m already squishing you.”_

    At least, that’s what ran through his head right after he spoke.

    Cas wiggled around then, until he was sprawled out along Dean’s length with his dog head unceremoniously shoved under the man’s chin. Then he licked whatever skin was closest to his face until Dean began to wrestle him away. They ended up sitting on opposite sides of the couch, Dean in fits of giggles and Cas grinning with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. On a random instinct Dean had never had for any dog ever in his life—the poodle doesn’t _count_ —Dean reached his arms out for Cas to come over to him. The dog-angel tackled him and snuggled against his chest, limbs flailing around Dean’s.

    “And here I thought an ancient being like you had the energy of an eighty year old.” Dean teased as he had all week.

    Cas woofed at him.

    Dean put on one of Cas’ favourite Disney movies, _Bambi_ , and then they repositioned their cuddling situation. Dean fell asleep somewhere around Thumper’s introduction, and when he woke in the morning, he found that Cas had indeed returned to his regular human form, which wasn’t notably heavier than the dog body had been.


End file.
